"Algorithms," Mr. Turing said. "They are a set of instructions. A recipe for solving a problem. If this happens, then do that. Input leads to Output."

Alex sat at his terminal. He was typing code.

IF ball_possession 70% THEN chance_creation = TRUE.

"But beware," Mr. Turing warned. "The Infinite Loop. The system gets stuck. It repeats the same action forever, achieving nothing. It freezes. It crashes."

Alex stopped typing.

The Infinite Loop.

That was Arsenal's problem against low-block teams. They passed the ball sideways. Left. Right. Left. Right. Possession without penetration. A loop of nothing.

"Mr. Finch," Mr. Turing asked. "How do you break an infinite loop?"

Alex looked up.

"You introduce a break statement, Sir," Alex said. "A command that forces the system to stop and change direction."

"Correct," Mr. Turing smiled. "You hack the pattern."

The door slid open with a mechanical whoosh.

Mark walked in.

He was wearing a silver cardboard box over his torso. He had dryer vents on his arms and legs. He was walking stiffly, like a robot.

"I AM THE GOAL-BOT 3000," Mark said in a monotone voice. "I HAVE COME FROM THE FUTURE TO DESTROY NETS."

"Mark," Mr. Turing sighed. "Please take off the dryer vents. You are scratching the monitors."

"NEGATIVE," Mark buzzed. "MY PROGRAMMING DOES NOT ALLOW SURRENDER. I MUST SCORE. BEEP BOOP."

Mark tried to sit down, but the cardboard box was too stiff. He sort of fell backwards into his chair with a loud CRUNCH.

"SYSTEM ERROR," Mark shouted. "I HAVE FALLEN AND I CANNOT REBOOT!"

Maya, sitting two desks away, typed something on her screen without looking up.

"I have hacked Mark's mainframe," Maya said. "I have installed a virus called 'Common Sense'. The installation is 0% complete."

"Very funny, Maya," Mark grumbled from inside his box.

The bell rang.

Alex helped Mark out of his robot suit.

"Why the robot, Mark?" Alex asked.

"Because tonight is the Champions League," Mark said, fixing his hair. "Inter Milan. They are a machine. A defensive machine. To beat a machine, you must become a better machine."

"Or," Alex said. "You must introduce a bug."

Wednesday Night. The Emirates Stadium.

It was the first group game of the new Champions League season.

Inter Milan. The Italian giants. The masters of the Catenaccio.

The stadium was buzzing. The floodlights were bright.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

To his right stood the Inter players. Barella. Bastoni. Lautaro Martinez.

They looked organized. They stood in a perfect line. They didn't smile. They looked like code that had been written to destroy joy.

Rico stood next to Alex. He was bouncing on his toes.

"Italian defense," Rico grinned. "They say it is a wall. I say it is a canvas for my art."

"It is a firewall, Rico," Alex said. "If you try to brute force it, you will get blocked."

"I have the password," Rico winked. "The password is 'Samba'."

They walked out.

The music played. The crowd roared.

Milo was standing near the dugouts.

He was dressed as... a Hacker.

He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood up and dark sunglasses (at night). He was typing furiously on a laptop made of a pizza box.

"I AM IN THE MAINFRAME!" Milo shouted. "ALEX! I AM DOWNLOADING VICTORY! I AM SELLING CHEAT CODES! UP, UP, DOWN, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, GOAL! ONLY FIFTY POUNDS FOR THE UNLOCK!"

"Milo, turn off the pizza box," Alex laughed.

"I CANNOT!" Milo yelled. "THE DATA IS TOO SPICY!"

The whistle blew.

The game started.

Inter Milan did exactly what Mr. Turing had warned about.

They created a loop.

They set up in a 5-3-2 formation. Five defenders. Three midfielders. Two strikers.

They did not press. They waited.

Arsenal passed the ball. Rice to Saliba. Saliba to White. White to Rice.

Pass. Pass. Pass.

It was the Infinite Loop.

Rico got frustrated.

In the fifteenth minute, Rico dropped deep to get the ball.

"Give it to me!" Rico demanded.

He got the ball. He turned.

Barella was there. Then Calhanoglu. Then Acerbi.

Three players surrounded him. The Firewall.

Rico tried a stepover. He tried a flick.

Barella just stuck his foot in. He took the ball cleanly.

"Access Denied," Barella seemed to say.

Inter countered.

Lautaro Martinez ran. He was fast and strong.

He shot from distance.

Ramsdale saved it.

"Focus!" Ramsdale screamed. "They are waiting for the mistake!"

Thirty minutes passed.

Arsenal had 75% possession. But zero shots on target.

Mark was running across the line, waving his arms.

"I AM OPEN!" Mark yelled. "I AM A ROBOT NEEDING INPUT!"

But the passing lanes were blocked. The Inter defense shifted perfectly. Left. Right. Left. Right. Like a line of code executing perfectly.

Alex stood in the center circle.

He watched the pattern.

Every time the ball went wide to Saka, the Inter wing-back stepped out, and the center-back covered behind.

It was an "If/Then" statement.

IF ball goes wide, THEN shift left.

"Okay," Alex thought. "To break the loop, we need a glitch. We need to create an error."

Halftime. 0-0.

The crowd was getting restless.

Steve, the manager, was pacing in the dressing room.

"They are strangling us," Steve said. "They are comfortable. They want a draw. Or a lucky goal."

He looked at Rico.

"Rico. Stop running into the wall. You are hurting yourself."

"They are too many!" Rico complained. "There is no space for the magic!"

Steve looked at Alex.

"Professor. The system is frozen. Reboot it."

"I need to rewrite the code," Alex said.

"Do it," Steve nodded.

Second half.

The game continued in the same pattern. The Loop.

Sixtieth minute.

Alex decided it was time to hack.

He got the ball in midfield.

Instead of passing it wide (which triggered the defensive shift), Alex did something illogical.

He dribbled backwards.

He ran towards his own goal.

The Inter forwards, Martinez and Thuram, were confused. They stepped up to press him.

This pulled the Inter midfield forward. Just five yards.

Gap created.

Alex suddenly spun. 180 degrees.

He didn't pass to the open man (Rice). He passed to the marked man (Rico).

Rico was surrounded by Barella and Mkhitaryan.

"Rico! One touch!" Alex yelled.

Rico heard the command. He didn't try to dribble.

He flicked the ball around the corner. First time.

Because the Inter midfield had stepped up, there was a hole behind them.

Alex ran into the hole.

He collected Rico's flick.

Now, Alex was running at the back five.

The "If/Then" logic of the defense broke down. They didn't know who to mark.

Bastoni stepped out to stop Alex.

This left a gap in the defensive line.

Mark saw the gap. The Goal-Bot activated.

Alex didn't pass immediately. He waited. He held the ball until the last millisecond.

Loading... Loading...

Bastoni committed.

Alex released the pass.

It was a binary code of a pass. Zeroes and ones. Perfect precision.

It slid through the gap.

Mark ran onto it.

He was one on one with Sommer, the goalkeeper.

Mark didn't think. He executed his program.

He shot low and hard.

Goal.

One zero. Arsenal.

The Emirates erupted. The loop was broken.

Mark ran to the corner. He did the robot dance. It was stiff and jerky.

"SYSTEM ONLINE!" Mark screamed. "TARGET ELIMINATED!"

Alex ran over. "The glitch worked!"

"I processed the data!" Mark yelled. "And the data said GOAL!"

Inter Milan were furious. Their perfect system had crashed.

Now, they had to attack.

This opened up the game.

Seventy fifth minute.

Inter poured forward. They left space at the back.

Rico got the ball.

Now, without the Firewall in front of him, he was free.

Rico smiled.

"Now we dance," Rico whispered.

He ran at Acerbi.

Rico did a "Elastico". Flip-flap.

Acerbi fell over.

Rico ran into the box.

He saw Alex arriving late.

Rico could have shot. The Ego wanted to shoot.

But the new software update (Teamwork 2.0) kicked in.

Rico rolled the ball across the box.

Alex ran onto it.

He didn't smash it. He placed it.

Side netting.

GOAL.

Two zero.

Alex pointed at Rico. Rico pointed at Alex.

The Professor and The Samba. Logic and Art.

Eighty fifth minute.

Inter Milan scored a consolation goal. A header from a corner.

But it was too late. The system had been hacked.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Inter Milan 1.

Three points in the Champions League.

Alex walked off the pitch. He felt drained but satisfied.

Barella walked past him. The Italian midfielder looked annoyed.

"You play like a computer," Barella muttered.

"Computers win chess matches," Alex replied politely.

Milo ran onto the pitch. He was holding a bunch of floppy disks (where did he even find those?).

"THE HACKER!" Milo screamed. "ACCESS GRANTED! ALEX! I AM SELLING THE SOURCE CODE! THE ALGORITHM OF VICTORY! IT IS STORED ON THESE ANTIQUE DISKS! ONLY ONE THOUSAND BITCOIN!"

"Milo, nobody uses floppy disks anymore," Alex laughed.

"IT IS VINTAGE TECH!" Milo insisted. "HIPSTERS LOVE IT!"

They walked into the dressing room.

The mood was electric.

Mark was sitting on the bench, making beeping noises.

"Mark, you can stop being a robot now," Alex said.

"I cannot," Mark beeped. "I am stuck in character. I need a software patch."

"Have a pizza," Alex suggested.

"REBOOT INITIATED," Mark said, his eyes lighting up. "PIZZA DETECTED."

Alex checked his phone.

A text from Maya.

"Algorithm analysis: Successful. You created a runtime error in their defensive structure. Efficiency rating: 96%. Also, Mr. Turing emailed. He said your solution to the 'Infinite Loop' problem was practical, but next time, please don't dribble backward in class."

Alex smiled.

He looked around the room.

Rico was showing everyone his assist on his phone.

Mark was eating a slice of pizza that Milo had smuggled in.